by Dale Mayer
“And what makes you think that you are out of danger now?”
She shrugged. “No point in worrying about me,” she said. “Since both my parents are gone, there is no leverage anymore.”
“I wonder if that’s true.”
“I was looking at my bags, and everything I was trying to pack up, and it makes no sense. This is my home.”
“But does it feel like home?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “No, of course not,” she said. “But it’s what I have at the moment.”
“You will stay?”
“No,” she said. “Definitely not. But I still have all these things that I have to deal with, you know, the estate.”
“Agreed,” he said, “but you can also get a lawyer to help.”
“Potentially,” she nodded, giving in. “But the bottom line is, I don’t think I’m in any danger anymore.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Just then a knock came at the front door. She groaned. “Time to face the music.” She limped forward and answered the door. He was right beside her. As she let the doctor in, he smiled and shook her hand.
“I’m so sorry.”
She smiled and nodded.
Zack saw the tears once again forming in the corners of her eyes.
She wiped them away and said, “Mom is upstairs in the master bedroom.”
“It will be okay,” Zack murmured to her.
The doctor walked up the stairs, and she looked at Zack.
The doctor was only in there for about fifteen minutes, then he came back down the stairs. He again said, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Somebody from the service will come and collect her.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I called the police.”
“It’s a natural death,” he said. “There is no need for any kind of theatrics about it.” With that, he left.
She turned to look at Zack. “I don’t know now. Was I supposed to call the police then?”
Just then, the police came up while the doctor walked down the street. She hurried out behind him and spoke with the cops out there. Zack watched, wondering if it was that simple. But everybody’s country was different with rules that were different.
She slowly turned and walked back. He saw the police and the doctor getting back into their vehicles and leaving.
As she walked up the front steps, she looked at him and said, “I didn’t want the police inside,” she said abruptly.
He studied her for a long moment. “The break-in?”
“As long as the intruders didn’t find anything,” she said, “then I just want it all to go away. I’ll clean up the house, put it on the market, and that will be the end of that.”
“And you don’t think the intruders will come after you, in case you have the paperwork they wanted your mother to find for them?”
“Why would they?” she asked, but her tone was muted, her eyes shadowed.
“Can you take that chance?”
“I have to,” she said. “Otherwise I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”
“You were kidnapped. So were your parents. Your father and mother died in captivity. The kidnappers were after blackmail material, which you are now in possession of. Do you really think they would not consider that? Especially once you’ve shown up here at the very house they already searched today?”
“But how would they know?”
“Because they are likely watching the house,” he said gently.
She stopped and stared and then looked around nervously. “Do you think they are?”
Zack answered, “If it were me, I certainly would be. Remember we were supposed to leave right away.”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, I will stay,” she said firmly. “First off, my mother’s body needs to leave and be cremated, and I have to deal with that.”
“And what about the rest of the things in the house?”
“I thought I would haul all this out. The broken stuff can go outside,” she said, “for the garbage, and leave it as an empty office. I’ll empty my mother’s bedroom, which would be a chore in itself,” she said sadly. “Clean out the rest of the personal items and then contact a realtor.”
“You want to do that while you are living here?”
She nodded. “Yes, I think that’s probably the easiest.”
“And with your leg?”
“It’s getting better,” she muttered. But she stared down at her hands.
“And you are avoiding looking at me, why?”
She raised her gaze to him and stared. “You came to save me,” she said, “and I feel like I’m throwing that in your face.”
“Well, we got you away from your initial kidnappers, but your parents were murdered by someone,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb, staring at her. “I can’t say that I feel very good about leaving you here.”
“Your job is done,” she said with a laugh. “You can be on your way.”
“Just like that?”
She gave a firm nod. “Yes, just like that.”
Chapter 10
Zadie didn’t know why she suddenly couldn’t leave the house, but she was sure it had something to do with her mom’s death. Her mother’s body was still here. Zadie just wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She couldn’t imagine that the kidnappers would think she had any of the materials that they were looking for, but Zack’s responses made some sense, since they’d found the ledgers. Although what they meant she didn’t know. Nothing was easy now. She really would prefer that he stayed with her, but she couldn’t ask that of him. And she didn’t want to depend on anybody. She’d been there and didn’t like it much.
Zack stared at her for a moment, then said, “You can get a company in to clean out the house.”
“I feel like I can’t do that to my mother,” she said. “So much of her personality is in there.”
“And yet she is gone,” he said.
She winced. “I know. If I can get you to carry the broken pieces of the desk outside, and anything else, then maybe just put all the rest of the office into boxes, I’ll go see if I can rustle up some food.”
She turned resolutely and walked to the big designer kitchen. She’d spent many evenings in here alone, cooking small meals. She wasn’t sure how long it’d been since her parents had been here or if anything was even edible here. As she opened the fridge, she was shocked to find it fully stocked. That brought her around to the caretakers. She frowned and looked down the hallway to see that Zack had gone into the office.
Bonaparte walked in through the back door. He smiled when he saw her in the kitchen. “Thought there wasn’t any food in there?” he noted. “We can pick up something on the way.”
“I’m not going,” she said abruptly.
He stopped and looked at her. “Say what?”
“I’m staying here,” she said. “I have to look after my mom. I have to empty the house and put it on the market.”
“And the people who came after you?” he asked and gave a headshake. “Not to mention the people who came after your mom and who were with her when she passed?”
“I don’t think they will come back,” she said, trying to sound reasonable.
“And why not?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Because they already came and looked at the place,” she said. “They didn’t find anything.”
“Maybe they didn’t, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t watching you right now.”
She frowned. “Zack said something similar.”
“Of course he did,” Bonaparte said in exasperation. “We are well past the time that we should even be here now.”
“I’m not leaving until my mother is taken away safely,” she said stubbornly.
He grinned at that.
She frowned. “I am not sure I’m leaving at all.”
“You are leaving,” he said. “But since we have to be here a little bit longer, see if there is food. And, yes, there are wheels in the garage
. I’ve transferred everything over from my car, including the plates. I put its true plate inside the trunk.”
She frowned at that. “But we don’t have to go anywhere.”
He shrugged and added, “I also moved the old car from your garage several blocks away.”
She frowned even more at that. And then shrugged. “That’s probably for the best.”
“Absolutely it is.” He walked over to the fridge, opened it, and rubbed his tummy. “I don’t know how long they held them captive, or who is supplying this food, but it’s definitely fully stocked.”
“The caretakers,” she said absentmindedly.
“Is that the house on the far back corner?”
She nodded.
“Did you contact them yet?”
“No, but I need to,” she said, reaching up, rubbing her face. “I’m just not sure I can deal with the emotional issues of it.”
“Well, particularly if you are selling the house, you have to give them notice. It’s their livelihood and home too.”
She stopped at that and could feel the tears and a sense of overwhelming gathering. “I can’t keep the house,” she cried out.
“I’m not saying that you have to,” Bonaparte said. “But you will have to deal with the staff. It won’t be an easy job.”
She stared and then picked up her phone, walked over to a cupboard, pulled it by the handle, and inside were all the emergency phone numbers. She ran her finger down until she found the one she was looking for. Then she dialed the number.
“I’m calling Pedra right now,” she said. “I can at least find out when she last stocked the fridge because most of this looks fresh.” As she turned around, Bonaparte pulled out eggs, bacon, ham, and what looked like sandwich fixings. “What are you making?”
“Big sandwiches,” he said. “Some for the road, some for here. A lot of fresh food in there. We will need to take a bag to go too.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped. Her phone rang and rang and rang. She frowned and said, “They are not answering.” She slammed the cupboard door closed and turned to lean back on the counter and stared at him.
“Are you expecting them to?”
“They are the older couple who live here full-time,” she said, “so of course I am.”
“Well, somebody shops and does the cleaning here.”
“She does some of that. Especially the shopping. They have a cleaning lady who comes in too. I’ll have to cancel that too.”
“First,” Zack said, as he walked into the kitchen, carrying the pieces of the broken desk, which he put outside the kitchen door, “you need to relax and get your head together. You are upset. You can’t cancel the cleaning service because you will need it to keep the place clean while everybody is looking at the house to buy it.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “I don’t even know who the cleaning service is.”
“But your caretaker would know, right?”
“Yes.” She picked the phone again and immediately hit Redial. They could all hear the buzz and the buzz as it rang so many times again.
“How old are they?”
“Late sixties,” she said. “They were friends with my mom for a long time, so she gave them the job here.”
“Maybe I’ll walk over and take a look,” Zack said.
She nodded fretfully. “I would go myself, but I don’t really want to put my leg through the walk.”
“No,” he said. He looked back and exchanged an odd look with Bonaparte.
Bonaparte gave him a quick nod as he pulled out bread from the fridge as well. He started cutting big slabs. “I don’t know exactly what we’ve got coming,” he said, “but I haven’t eaten, and I need food.”
“Make me whatever you’re making,” Zack said with a smile. “I’ll be back in five.”
He slipped out the door while she watched. “Do you think something’s happened to them?” she asked Bonaparte.
Bonaparte looked at her and asked, “What do you think?”
Immediately her stomach dropped as she realized that, since the kidnappers had killed her mom, what were the chances that the caretakers were still alive?
*
Zack didn’t know where her sudden need to stay in the house had come from. But he presumed it was finding her mother and feeling that final connection to her last living family member. He could understand it to a certain extent, but it was not a good time for her to come apart.
As he walked out on the property, he noted it was a nice little cottage for an older couple and would probably have been a great gift in their aging years. But why hadn’t they come to check on the obvious activities in the house, and why hadn’t they answered the phone? In his heart of hearts, he had a pretty good idea why. But he hoped that the gunmen who had kidnapped her parents had more grace than to take out an old couple.
When he finally approached from the back, instincts had him going up to the window sideways, looking inside. No sign of anybody in the back, and, as he went around, creeping to peek through the side windows to check, he couldn’t see any sign of life inside.
He walked up and around to the front, noting an old truck parked in the driveway. He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. He waited, listening carefully for any footsteps, but he heard none. Putting his gloves back on, he reached for the doorknob, then pushed it open. The smell hit him first.
Swearing, he walked in carefully, trying not to touch anything until he found the old couple tied up in kitchen chairs, obviously beaten, and they both had bullets to the head.
He took a quick photo and sent it to Bonaparte and Levi. Then, pocketing his phone, he did a quick sweep of the house. His handgun was out and ready, just in case they had left anybody behind. Zack didn’t expect so.
When he came back to the cottage’s kitchen, he looked back at the older couple, his heart breaking for their brutal end. Because it hadn’t been easy, and it hadn’t been nice. A piece of paper was on the counter, and what it said sent chills down his back. It had Zadie’s name on it, and read, If you know, you better tell.
He quickly took a photo, sending it to Bonaparte and Levi. When he stepped out on the front porch of the cottage, he stopped and slowly perused the neighborhood. He pulled out his phone and called Levi. “Did you get those messages?”
“Who are they?” Levi asked, his voice harsh.
“The caretakers on Zadie’s parents’ place,” he said quietly. “Obviously the kidnappers brought Mom back here, whether she died on the way or not. The doctor said she died of natural causes, but that could be anything from a drug overdose to her cancer,” he said. “She was dead when we got here, and I only just now realized the old couple were supposed to be here too, so I came to check on them. Zadie doesn’t want to leave the house, and she figures she is out of danger, now that her parents are both deceased, so nobody should care.”
“Yet you sent me a message saying you had the blackmail material.”
“Yes, and I need to take photos of it, and then I want to destroy it,” he said.
“It might be better off to just destroy it,” Levi said.
“But it meant something to the people who kidnapped them,” he said. “Maybe it’s not about getting the materials so they can blackmail people too but getting the materials so nobody knows.”
At that, Levi laughed and said, “Good point. So, as soon as you get back to the main house, make a digital copy of it all.”
“I’ve actually tucked it into the vehicle, thinking we were all leaving,” he said. “I’ll go do that right now. Do you have any connections to the police here?”
“Why?”
“She sent them away already,” Zack said. “They were here when the doctor was leaving, and she didn’t want to let them in, didn’t want to explain everything that happened to them. So, when the doctor said it was a common and natural death, it became a nonissue as far as the police were concerned.”
“She didn’t tell them about the break-in or
about her kidnapping?”
“No,” he said.
“Any reason to suspect that she is involved in this nightmare?”
“No,” he said. “At least I hope not.”
“Get us the blackmail material, and we can take a quick look,” he said. “And, yeah, with the brutal deaths of the caretakers, you gotta get the cops involved.”
“I’m on my way now.” Zack headed over to the main part of the house and the big garage. “I don’t know for sure what’s going on with her headspace.”
“Grief does funny things to people,” Levi said. “She went there initially to rescue her mom from her house arrest. That was the plan behind her visiting her parents. Not only did it backfire but she got kidnapped, and her dad and mom, for whatever reason, are now dead,” he said. “That can take a toll on a person.”
Zack pondered that for a moment. It wasn’t as if he didn’t understand; he just wished he knew what he could do to help her, and he told Levi that.
“Send us the blackmail material, and then we’ll all have a better idea,” Levi said, hanging up.
Zack slipped into the garage, checked to make sure it was empty, and headed over to where Bonaparte had put all the material from the safe into the trunk. There, he brought out the 9x13 envelope, went to the workbench, and spread it out—all the papers, the documents, and the photographs—and took pictures of it all. A good forty-five minutes had passed by the time he finished.
He put everything back in the envelope and into the car again. He checked over the vehicle and realized that even the car had valuables hidden in it. Some money was underneath the false floor of the trunk, so it was hidden from view. Only someone who understood that there was space by the tires would have known to look; otherwise it was just bags of clothing and shoes and stuff. Nothing conspicuous except for that envelope. He left it there and headed back to the main house.
When he walked in, Bonaparte looked up at him, and Zack shook his head. He turned to look at Zadie, but she was busy making sandwiches. She added ham slices, then turned to look at him and smiled. “So were they home?”
“They were home,” he said with a nod.
She stopped, turned to fully face him at the tone of his voice, and whispered, “And?”